The Treasure of O'rrh Sim
by NullNoMore
Summary: BLADE Wolf has a mission: a treasure hunt in Cauldros, for the good of the Ma-non and the Tree Clan. A treasure unlike any other, irreplaceable, supreme. At least that's what the Most Beautiful Prone on Mira told him. Spoilers to xenos. All the good stuff belongs to Monolith Soft, including Wolf and Miss Duna Valdileo.
1. Carrot and Stick

**The Treasure of O-rrh Sim/1/Carrot and Stick**

 **a/n: The scary bald BLADE trainer Wolf has moved from the Mission Board to the Ma-non ship, at least in my head. He's ostensibly there to train xenos. Let's get real, though: he must have extra time on his hands.**

 **All the good stuff belongs to Monolith Soft. I gave Eric a name, but he's canon. I kid you not.**

* * *

BLADE instructor Wolf was used to hearing raised voices in his current stationing. By which he did not mean the high pitched warblings of his hosts, the Ma-non. No, the varied xenos on the ship were constantly arguing, it seemed. Sometimes within their species, as often amongst the groups. Wolf didn't mind it. It felt good actually, to see a tiny Ma-non giving an uninhibited assessment of a Prone's suggestions for weaponizing their photon energy source, or watching an Orphe tugging at his feathery feelers while trying to simplify a philosophical point into something that a Nopon could understand, or more accurately, into something they might care enough about to understand. Whenever he saw groups arguing loudly, he felt relieved. When people talked, they could work together. The polite silences between the Tree and Cavern clans, that worried him. The dignified behavior of the Wrothians, again, he wasn't convinced it was only culture that kept them so stiffly polite. Politeness could hide many things: anger, dislike, even betrayal.

He was always polite to his hosts and fellow guests. Formal, because he was here on a job. He took his job seriously, even though training the newcomers to NLA was mostly pointless. Prone and Wrothian didn't need him beyond novelty, and the rest would never become real soldiers. Not built for it. A few, limited though they were, had become proper BLADEs, due to extraordinary dexterity or determination and because the ECP needed all the help it could get, even after retrieving the Lifehold. But if the stated goal was pointless, he knew that they all could become better citizens of NLA by learning what was expected from BLADE members.

He'd done his best to learn as much himself. He'd made careful reports about everything he found useful, and much of what he didn't. He didn't make a secret of it. People knew to come to him if they had a particular topic they felt BLADE or the ECP needed to better appreciate. He'd sit, silently, and let their words pour over him, then thank them for their time. He stayed neutral and polite, and neither hurried nor pressed a speaker, whether it felt like drivel or the secrets of survival. He kept his opinions hidden, sometimes even from himself.

Case in point: today's morning meeting with a young Ma-non by the name of Eric. No, really, Eric. Wolf couldn't be sure if that was an affectation or the creature's real name, and so he didn't even admit an opinion on the matter. However, this Ma-non had come to him not with a viewpoint to share, but a vague request. "BLADEs are good at finding things in in in dangerous locations, right? So, I want to get something, but but but it's in Cauldros, so so scary, okay?" He'd gone on for a while longer, all the while failing to explain just what the thing he wanted was and where exactly in the entire fiery continent it was located. When he seemed to be running out of words (finally), Wolf suggested that Eric put a request on the main mission board.

"Oh no no no, I don't want to do that. You see," and here his voice dropped to almost a stage whisper, still piercingly high, "it's about a Prone treasure. I really need a Prone to to to get it, but they don't listen to me, can you believe it? So, I thought maybe you could convince a Prone, or go as a Prone, maybe?"

"I'm no Prone," Wolf said in a clipped voice.

"But you're living here and working with Prone, so maybe you could pretend?"

"I could say the same about you. Maybe you should pretend." Wolf's face was devoid of the slightest smile, a terrifying sight for humans but completely lost on this Ma-non.

"Well, I considered that, okay, because I really want to get it, but I'm pretty sure that I'd be dead instantly, okay? Even walking around NLA is frightening. I don't go down there much, except when there is a sale at Army Pizza."

Wolf breathed quietly. He was going to have to convince the Ma-non to put the job up on the Mission Board, somehow. There was no way that Wolf could figure how a treasure hunt was his job. He trained xenos on board the ship. Sometimes they did careful practice runs outside the city. They did not go on treasure hunts. That went double for treasure hunts in Cauldros. Multiple times of double. But something didn't feel right about refusing him. Uncharacteristically, Wolf placed a direct question. "Why do you want this treasure?"

The Ma-non gave a little skip and patted his knees in sudden agitation. "It's not for for for me, okay? But I want to give it to someone." He looked over his shoulder, checking to see if anyone else was listening. He continued, but Wolf had to lean in to hear him. "There's this Prone female. She's so sad, so so so sad, you know? And beautiful. But sad. And I thought, maybe, …" He squeaked to a halt and tugged at his extended nose.

Wolf looked down at the unhappy Ma-non for the briefest of moments, then said, "Come on." He started walking purposefully towards the exit.

"You're going to Cauldros now? We're going to Cauldros?!" Eric squeaked in panic.

"We're going to the port side. There's a Prone we need to see."

Xc2xc2xc2xc2

While the starboard side of the Ma-non ship was still mostly inhabited by its original crew, the port side was home to the majority of the other xenos. The Prone, in particular, were rebuilding their community here. From the entrance, you could look down on level after level of internal balconies and see the blue skinned and robust aliens bargaining, planning, flirting. Wolf, however, focused on the open space of the lower level. This was where the most influential members of the Tree Clan were to be found, the oldest or most experienced. He was seeking his co-founder in the BLADE-Xeno training scheme.

Eric had followed him. "It won't work right now, okay? It only happens at at at night, do you understand?"

Wolf didn't understand, and he didn't care. He'd spotted his target almost instantly, a female Prone arguing furiously with a leader of the Prone, Galba Vassago. That Galba was three times larger did not matter in the slightest, it seemed. Wolf wasn't surprised. His co-founder was intelligent and fearless, also pig-headed. If Miss Duna Valdileo had made up her mind on something, she would see it through. That she was in battle form today might actually work in his favor.

"Eric, meet me on the lower deck. I'm taking a shortcut." Wolf took a few sprinting steps, then leapt over the bannister and sailed in an arc of mathematical exactitude, down, down, to land in a balanced pose on the deck, one knee lightly brushing the ground. None of the xenos seemed to pay attention. Humans flinging themselves from improbable heights was a daily occurrence. For Wolf, it was secretly deeply satisfying to be able to fly like a superhero, if only downward. He knew he'd miss that ability when he was organic again.

He focused on Miss Duna. The argument had finished during his graceful descent, to judge by the storming speed with which she was moving away from her still gesturing opponent. Wolf maneuvered himself to be just to the side of her path, but did not approach. He preferred to let her be the one to make first contact. She responded best when given command.

She had spotted him. The anger did not diminish from her stride, stiff and still graceful in its own way. "Why are you smiling at me like that, BLADE Wolf?" she snarled at him as she approached.

Wolf checked his face. No smile whatsoever, he'd swear to it. But she'd read his emotions correctly. "Because you're just the person I wanted to see, and I think you might be in just the right mood."

"I am ready to abandon this ship and all upon it. You offer yourself as the first sacrifice?"

"Think of me as a friendly distraction. I have a Ma-non…"

"I can find you ten of them."

"… who needs a Prone…"

"I can get you more of those and you may keep them."

"… to do a job for …"

"A Nopon. You may have all of those."

".. for a Prone."

"Ah. It would have been better if you had said Nopon."

"What's put you in such a foul mood?" he asked suddenly.

She slanted her head away from him, and only her pride kept her from hunching her shoulders, he could tell. "My father is impossible. I have raised his children to adulthood and sung his father into death, but he does not trust me with my own life. I could weep." She did not look ready to weep to Wolf's eyes. Rage, maybe, or fight, but not weep. He was glad; he wasn't sure he could handle a weeping Prone.

"Dads are like that," he said softly. He noticed Eric picking his way cautiously down the ramps, and was sorry that he could not discuss this topic at length with his partner. "They do it all the time on Earth." He corrected himself and sighed. "Did it. He's wrong, but I'll bet it's out of kindness."

"That makes it no more palatable. I feel shamed and helpless."

Wolf's mouth grew tight. "Don't talk stupid. You're not either, and we all know it. Even your dad. Take a break, help me out, and try to talk to him later." He could have been lecturing a cadet balking at an easy challenge.

Miss Duna Valdileo gazed at Wolf, then nodded. "You are always a source of sense, and I am grateful. You are trainer for us all. How may I help? I assume that this is not a normal part of the training scheme?"

"No. A Ma-non asked a favor, but he's skittish. Something doesn't seem right, but I don't get that he's lying either. He's leaving something out."

"You cannot shake it out of him yourself?" She stood tall now, hands on hips, and rolled her shoulders. Her broad golden necklace caught the sparkle of the Ma-non's engine and multiplied it a thousand ways. "When has a BLADE admitted to weakness before Prone?"

"Still talking stupid. I know just how big your males get." Wolf risked a small smile. "This isn't a matter of shaking. It's a matter of asking nicely, and I thought you might be the one to manage it. Apparently, he has an eye for pretty Prone. For beautiful ones, too." He ignored her sputtering surprise and turned toward Eric. The Ma-non had stopped at the bottom of the last ramp. He was alternately tugging his ears and his nose, and looking around at inhabitants of the ground floor of the port side with some alarm. "Eric, I'd like you to meet Miss Duna Valdileo," Wolf called over.

The introductions were quickly completed. Duna led them over to a bench where she sat, knees to the side and long legs slanting gracefully, then patted the place beside herself. Eric hesitated, then perched next to her. Wolf stood silently as Duna took over the interrogation. Her husky voice was pitched low, almost intimately so. Wolf congratulated himself on his inspiration to bring her into the mission.

"My colleague says you asked him to do a favor for a Prone. Why do my people not ask him directly?"

"Oh, uh, well, she's very shy, okay? I don't think she likes to to to talk to many people."

"A female, then? What is her name? I know all aboard, and am known to them. She can be safe, talking to me."

Eric lowered his head. His tiny hands, dwarfed by his wide sleeves, were bunched into tight fists. "She's really shy. I don't want anyone to bother her, please?"

"It is no bother to talk to a member of your own clan."

Eric lifted his head to stare at her then, a surprisingly clear stare. Duna stared back, and would not look away. The Ma-non said, quavering even more than was normal for these hamster-voiced xenos, "Sometimes I think it is."

Ah. Eric had noticed the confrontation on the lower deck. Duna's head did not snap back. Wolf knew she was too controlled for that. The tentacles by her ears continued to wave fluidly, although they moved more slowly. Proof of her control. She reached out and patted Eric's knee, very softly. "I will not bother her, I promise. I can be the gentlest of women. I would not hurt a kinswoman. But I will hear her speak. It does not do, to guess wrong at what a woman wants for lack of a question."

Wolf's eyes glinted, but he kept silent. Eric sighed deeply. He leaned towards Duna, twisting his head slightly. "She's really really shy, okay? We sit together at night, quietly, and watch the ship. She hasn't told me her name, but it it it doesn't matter much to me. I'd be glad to sit next to her whatever her name is, I guess." Eric sighed again. "I should ask, shouldn't I?"

"If she is comfortable without saying it, then perhaps not," replied Duna, almost to herself. There followed an extended silence. Wolf finally cleared his throat, earning sharp looks from four pairs of eyes. "About the treasure," he suggested.

Eric and Duna frowned in unison. Duna sat up more correctly. "It is best to ask my kinswoman herself. But Host Eric, perhaps you can tell me: this treasure, she asked you to get it?"

Eric hung his head low. "No. She never asked anything of of of me, okay? Look at me." He jumped to his feet and spread his arms wide. "I'm small, right? So so so much smaller than humans, and let's not even talk about Prone, understand? What can I do? But I thought, maybe if I could organize getting her treasure, it would make her happy. Because she's so sad, all the time, and I would like her to to to …" He sat down just as suddenly, hands in his lap, shrinking into nothingness.

Wolf said in clipped tones, "A woman who won't tell you her name is willing to tell you about a treasure. I'm not buying that."

"BLADE Wolf!" chided Duna. "Eric has not earned your distrust."

"He hasn't earned my trust much either."

Eric looked from one to the other. "She never told me about it, not directly, at least I don't think so, okay? But I've sat next to her for for for several weeks. If you spend enough time with someone, it's normal to learn things, don't you think? I can't remember exactly …" He patted his hands together and looked into the distance. Wolf had counted to 100 and was starting another round when Eric continued. "One day, I understood about the treasure. She left it in Cauldros, you see? She didn't want to bring it with her, but she's worried about it. I'm not sure if that's why she's sad, though." He looked up at Wolf, his eyes twinkling brightly. "But but but it's about the only thing I could think of to make her happy. It might work, don't you think?"

Duna nodded her head slightly. "Perhaps, perhaps not. But it would be wise to ask her. She may have abandoned it for a reason." When Eric flinched, she patted his knee again. "We shall do it with you, if you wish her to approve of us as your representatives. I trust we will be worthy in her eyes."

"We better be," growled Wolf.

"I think we will be acceptable. So. Let us not waste any time. Lead us to her, if you please."

"But I told the human already!" protested the Ma-non irritably. "It won't work now, okay? She only sits on the bench late at night." His voice fell to a squeaky whisper. "I've looked for her in the daytime, everywhere, but but but I can never find her."

"I can't believe this. What a waste of time!" huffed Wolf.

"BLADE Wolf! And you humans criticize the Prone for being hasty! No, if we must wait until evening, then we shall wait. You will meet us here, yes?"

"Yes, yes, but it has to be later than evening and and and maybe we can meet on the deck before the entrance, okay? Because I don't really want to go down all the ramps again, especially at night. Visitors always look a little hungrier at night, don't you think?"

"Fine, whatever. Port side entrance, 2300. Work for you?" Wolf said. He cut Eric off as soon as the Ma-non had said his first three "yes-es". "And if you stand us up, you'll be squeaking just a little higher, get me?"

Eric demonstrated a very high squeak, and pattered away after a hasty goodbye to Duna. They could hear him muttering about inverse correlations of military prowess and common courtesy. Wolf didn't speak until he saw Eric exit through the upper door.

"Do you think he's never heard of good cop, bad cop?"

"He would not be unique in that," stated Duna, mildly. But her shoulders shivered with laughter. "I thought humans divided themselves between carrots and sticks."

"Never saw a blue carrot, but there's probably something like that in Noctilum."

Duna rose gracefully to his feet. "What a foolish creature. He fancies himself in love, I warrant, with a female that only suffers his presence because he does not tax her. I would feel sorry for him, if I were any younger or kinder."

"Is it so impossible, to fall in love?" As the words left his mouth, Wolf regretted asking her.

"Perhaps I judge him by my own foolishness," Duna replied softly.

"Again with that word…"

"In this case, deserved, as well you know. Someday I will laugh. Not yet, alas."

Wolf didn't argue, but neither did he remind Duna of her deeply embarrassing encounter, weeks before, with Commander Vandham. It wasn't exactly foolish, if you thought about it. Paint him blue, and the Commander would look a lot more like a Prone than a Smurf, that was for sure. Miss Duna had been interested in courtship. Vandham had most definitely been not. Wolf found he had nothing in particular to say, but at the same time he didn't want to leave.

"So. We now have a promise of more foolishness, in some 12 hours. Better it should have been midnight."

"We can stall him," suggested Wolf.

Duna laughed again, gently, then gave Wolf a brisk look. "So, BLADE Wolf, until then, what are your plans?" They settled into a discussion of ideas for the BLADE/Xeno training scheme. One thing that never failed either of them: given a chance to work together towards this impossible goal, they had more than enough inspirations to fill the hours of the day. Usually to the surprise of BLADE and any human or xeno observers.

* * *

 **A/n: I just realized why the Man-non is named Eric. My avatar's voice actor also did Eric in Zero Time Escape, and I kept having weird resonances, hearing a younger, dorkier version of my gruff but casual Cross. The weird things that I pull from my brain…. little Eric the Ma-non really has a blue speech bubble about treasure and a Prone, located on the port side daytime. I don't need much to to to go on, do I?**

 **Duna and Wolf show up in two previous stories, "New Faces" and "Three Sapphire Horns" (shameless plug is shameless). "New Faces" explains how they meet and started the Xeno training program (short version: heartbroken Prone need a bigger distraction than cocktails with tiny paper umbrellas). "Three Sapphire Horns" hints at what Wolf's quiet politeness is hiding from others, but never from himself. It isn't betrayal.**

 **This story is going slowly, so very slowly, but I _will_ get there, and here's the start. I've got Ch. 2 done and Ch. 3 in bad shape, so I'm pushing myself to set it loose.**

 **Next up: The hunt for the Most Beautiful Prone on Mira is on. Problem is, there is a lack of agreement as to who she is or what she means.**


	2. The Most Beautiful Prone on Mira

**The Treasure of O'rrh Sim/2/The Most Beautiful Prone on Mira**

 **a/n: Chapter title says it all. She certainly has a strong effect on people.**

 **All the good stuff belongs to the hardworking geniuses Monolith Soft. I love them. All four exist in game, but I have taken more than some liberties.**

* * *

Wolf tried and failed not to pace at the entrance to the port side of Ma-non ship. There was a filthy spattering rain falling, not hard enough to clear the air but enough to make the bronze deck slick and treacherous. If there was a battle, these conditions would make for difficulties standing firm, protecting the ship. He'd be tempted to fall back into the hallway leading to the living quarters and make a stand there. But that would put more non-combatants at risk. Better to stay here, just outside the door, and keep the enemy from ever entering.

He shook his head. No. There wasn't a battle coming. He didn't need to keep himself on edge. He was merely waiting for Miss Duna, who was uncharacteristically late. Just as well, because Eric was a no-show. He'd hate for her to suffer this nasty weather. The Prone's native costume wasn't exactly designed to protect against the elements, or much anything really, although that didn't keep them, both male and female, from charging out against large indigens. Large and tasty, and their success was shared with other shipmates with great enthusiasm. Even the other xenos were invited to join Prone feasts, with side dishes selected with due consideration for their different tastes. Wolf smiled at the delicate diplomacy of the Prone, so unexpected but so genuine.

"You switched from fierce to relaxed in an instant, BLADE Wolf. What caused this?" Miss Duna had reached him unnoticed. Chalk it up to him trying to mask his impatience by avoiding looking down the corridor every other second.

"I was thinking about food," he admitted.

"If you begin to enthuse about pizza like our hosts, I will ask that your mim center reprogram you," she said with mock severity.

"No worries about that, Miss Duna. Trust me. Our boy Eric may have succumbed, however." Wolf looked at the woman, her blue shoulders already shining from the drizzle. "You should wait inside. This weather…"

"I will not melt. Will you rust?"

He shook his head, smiling again. But there was no more chatter, because he had spotted a small figure darting through the rain. Eric, the missing Ma-non, late by human reckoning but not too bad for Ma-non.

Eric waved his hands as he approached. "You're here? Already? Of course you are, that's one thing you humans do so so so much more precisely, maybe the only thing, okay? So, can we go inside, maybe?" That would be the extent of any apology they'd get from their client. Wolf shrugged and followed Eric and Duna into the port-side corridor.

The trio walked the length of the arched entrance. Compared to the main halls of the ship, the entryways were hushed. The lamps of the tall communal tables cast a series of glowing circles, creating a feeling of privacy. Duna nodded to those of her kinfolk milling about, calling a low greeting to a few but never stopping. Wolf made eye contact with two recruits but gave no further gesture. Eric dashed without looking, until they reached the door to the main area. There he skidded to a halt, and turned to address the two others.

"She's really shy. Really really shy. Please don't yell at her or or or nag her or anything, okay? I wouldn't want her to be hurt because of what I've told you. That would be the last thing I wanted, understand?" He spread his arms wide, blocking their path. He didn't fill a third of the door frame. Wolf knew that he could push the little xeno to the side and continue on without breaking stride. But Wolf also knew he'd hurt something inside himself if he did that, something that wouldn't heal.

"You will approach my kinswoman first, and be our guarantee. If she trusts you with her treasure, she will trust you with your choice of representative. I will let her be the first to speak." Duna's rich voice was both respectful and comforting. Wolf gave a curt nod of agreement.

Eric hesitated a moment, then dropped his arms. "Right, so so so she's usually half way to the back, on a bench on the top deck. That is, if if if no one is there already. She never intrudes on other groups, so very polite and gentle, okay? Have I mentioned how shy she is? You'll recognize her at once. Not because she's shy, but because she's so …." Before he stopped, his voice had skittered a little higher as he described his friend. He turned without finishing and pattered off to the right.

They passed a good dozen Prone as they followed the Ma-non, but none of them looked like mysterious women with even more mysterious treasures. Wolf figured it was probably best not to worry about it and instead wait to have Eric point her out directly. Then they stepped around a column and Wolf realized he didn't need any help recognizing her.

Behind the angular column, a pool of quiet and darkness held an otherwise normal red bench and a Prone female that was anything but normal. Wolf had to stop and stare, because even though she was difficult to see, she merited a careful examination. Young, slim, and a luminous blue, without a mark or smallest freckle, she was as perfect as moonlight.

But it was difficult for Wolf to be sure. The darkness of the nook was intensified by a smokiness in the air of this section of the ship. Part of his mind flared with alarm. Fire on a ship was never a good thing, even a ship as sophisticated as the Ma-non's. The knife of anxiety he'd felt on deck, imagining an attack, returned, and he pulled his gaze from the beautiful Prone. But when he looked around, nothing seemed amiss. None of the other passengers were panicking; indeed, they seemed not to notice. No haze was gathered at the lower decks or high in the arched ceiling with their blossoms of sleep pods. He couldn't smell anything beyond the slightly ionized atmosphere normal to the ship. But when he looked back at the bench and the strange Prone, his vision again clouded.

It was worse than that. The image was distorted. There was Eric, speaking gently to the Prone, normal shape and size. Beside him, unmoving, the Prone looked tremendously distant, yet magnified. He wouldn't say that she was too small, or misshapen, the farthest thing from misshapen, but even as she sat there, he felt like she was rushing away. Or maybe he was falling into some tunnel of darkness.

He felt a pressure beside him. He looked over to find Miss Duna clutching his arm. She was leaning forward, but her grasp on his sleeve locked her in place. She stared at the two figures by the bench. Perhaps she was also having trouble seeing the figures. Or perhaps she saw something important. Wolf decided to try to make a hard assessment of the unknown Prone woman.

She was stunning. He was being perfectly objective, but there was no denying her beauty. Younger than Duna by quite a bit, maybe almost a girl, and wearing the simple costume of the younger females, not so ornamented and proud as what Duna wore. A low narrow bodice, leaving all of her shoulders bare and most of her midriff, and flowing pants, no jewelry at all. It was hard to be sure through the smoke, but the colors were paler than he'd seen on other Prone, almost a silvery grey, and the fabric was delicate, even compared to the costumes used when they danced. She had the look of a dancer, he ventured. Delicate hands with long fingers, legs posed lightly but perfectly at just a slight angle. Her head tendrils were long and slender, moving with slow grace, and her color was the pure pale blue of a Primorida sky at noon, not a freckle upon her shoulders or bosom. Every part of her couldn't have been carved more beautifully.

That was the flaw, though. She was more perfect than any statue, but she was just as lifeless. For all her beauty, she held no strength. None of the snap and determination that Duna carried with every step, none of the blood and passion that woman demanded. The strange Prone's hands were motionless, cupped delicately in her lap, and he couldn't shake the idea that she would be barely strong enough to hold the light of Mira's five moons in them. Maybe she should switch to starlight, it might be easier.

Eric was chattering his introductions, but the smoke must have worked its way into Wolf's ears. The typical Ma-non shrillness was muffled. Or maybe Eric had hushed his voice in respect. The Prone's eyes were lowered, a hint of the shyness that Eric had praised, but even so Wolf realized he'd never seen larger, more lustrous eyes on a Prone. She didn't move, not even to glance at them, but he'd swear she was aware of everything around her.

Wolf was feeling dizzy. He kept staring at the Prone on the bench, who was still a very long way away, miles away, even though 5 steps would take him to her. The smoke was masking everything around him, except this beautiful Prone, with eyes that were larger and darker than any Prone's ever. Not just the dominant ones but all six were oversized and pleading. Sad and pleading eyes, and hands too weak to hold shadows.

The pressure on his arm had increased to pain. He tore his gaze from the beautiful Prone to look over at Miss Duna. She was now holding on to him for dear life. Her hands were strong enough to hold a family together, to drag BLADE and xeno closer to each other, and now those fingers were digging into him. Wolf realized that Duna was rattled, literally shaking. Her head tentacles were stretched stiff and straight. Her fingers were burning into his flesh. Was she feverish? Alarmed by this smoke? He covered her hand with his other hand and felt how warm her skin was. If she'd let go of his arm, he'd wrap it around her shoulders, to support her, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. He squeezed her hand instead.

"It cannot be…" she croaked. She spared him a glance. "Do you see it too? Do you see _her_?" She returned her gaze to the other woman before Wolf had a chance to nod, but he kept his eyes on Duna. She never relaxed her grip on his arm, but something had changed. Her head leaned towards the other Prone, her tentacles began to flow uncertainly forward. She followed with a single step towards the bench and its uncanny occupant.

She broke her promise to allow the shy Prone to speak first, but her voice was far from her normal tone. "Sunilla, is it you? Do you know me? It is I, Duna. You must remember me. Can it really be you?" An earnest pleading whisper. Both her hands were now clutching Wolf's arm, and she had dragged him that much closer to Eric's friend.

Wolf looked away from Duna in time to watch the beautiful Prone rise smoothly to her feet. Finally, the stranger spoke. She had taken a few steps towards Duna, which was probably good because Duna seemed rooted to the spot after that one step. She might even have stepped back but she'd locked herself into place by digging her fingers into Wolf's arms as a convenient anchorage. He didn't mind. But the smoke had definitely messed with his ears, because he couldn't understand what the Prone was saying. It was a garbled, alien roar, full of grunting and low snarls. Not animal, no, it was certainly speech, but the words were unknown to him. On all of Mira, BLADE had never met any xeno they couldn't understand (and wasn't that fact driving certain Curators crazy), but now this Prone was speaking and for once he realized how alien they were. Beside him Duna was nodding with comprehension.

Wolf listened as hard as he could. Still nothing clear, but he knew she was anguished. The pleading tone he'd heard before, an echo of it in Duna's voice at times. Duna hid it better, but this Prone wanted something, and desperately. Her hands drifted towards them, too weak to grab at anything, but he imagined there must be something she wanted to hold. One word he thought he could pick out, although he didn't know the meaning. "Prenar". Again and again, "prenar no, shin prenar, prenar". No idea what it meant, but he was sure that he heard it right. It was the last word she spoke when her voice suddenly dwindled to nothing.

Duna responded. "Yes, your treasure, we will rescue it, I understand." Then she fell silent as the Prone spoke again, a more clipped and emotionless speech. A list, maybe, or instructions? Directions, if Wolf had to guess. He hoped it was directions, and he hoped Duna was getting it all down, because it meant nothing to him, with not even a mysterious "prenar".

"Ah!" Duna cried out, and Wolf again turned away from the distant prone, her figure farther even than something seen through the wrong side of binoculars. Duna was looking even more distressed than before. Her tentacles were flicking quickly back from her face, but body was leaning towards her kinswoman. She'd drag them both to the bench, if she could only make that first step. She shook her head madly, then turned to Wolf with a shuddering sigh.

He glanced back to the bench, and saw that the Prone was gone. The bench was empty, the air was free from smoke. No sounds were muffled, only the gentle chatter throughout the ship's hall and the singing buzz of the photon engines. Nothing to indicate anything unusual had happened, except that Duna was sagging against him and Eric was staring at the two of them with wide eyes. Wolf thought better of his first impulse to leading Duna to the bench to sit down.

"She's never spoken so much," said Eric in a reverent whisper. "She told you everything. I guess… I guess I did the right thing? This is just what she was waiting for, right?"

Duna noticed her grip on Wolf's arm. She peeled her hands deliberately from his sleeve. Before Wolf could shift his arm to wrap it around Duna, the woman had regained her strength. Or her pride. She stepped away to a formal distance and nodded her head slightly towards the Ma-non. Her tentacles waved with precision, a tad forced to Wolf's eyes, yet attempting gentleness. Her voice was equally careful. "I have heard my kinswoman speak, and I thank you for bringing us here. We will do what she asks. I will see it done. But, please, Host Eric, do not tell others."

"Why not? Is it something bad? Dangerous? Is the ship in in in trouble?"

"No, no, nothing of the sort. I am sure of it. She would never have harmed the worst of us as a girl, so I cannot believe she would act against her friends, new or old. But it is indeed something special, as you warned us. Others might not understand. They might even be … concerned."

"I wouldn't do anything to hurt her. I would never tell anyone about what she said. Except, well, I sort of already did, I guess?"

"You carried her message to the ones that will find her treasure. You did right. We will not abuse her trust or yours." She turned to Wolf, still standing silent beside her. "BLADE Wolf, if you would be so kind? We need to discuss this now." She started to walk away, and he noticed a shadow of unsteadiness.

Before following her, Wolf looked over his shoulder at Eric. "We'll get in contact when the job's done. Keep quiet until then."

* * *

 **A/n: Well, I got that done. If the name "Sunilla" belongs to someone else in in in the XCX universe, LET ME KNOW, okay? I've seen the original on the ship; I believe that before you find her treasure, she's alone, and that after that she is surrounded by other xenos. I'm going off-canon, and not just in names.**

 **Next up: Duna knows who Sunilla is. Was. Will be. It's still a bit unclear in Wolf's mind.**


	3. Benched

**TOS/Ch. 3/Benched**

 **A/n: Wolf wonders about the best method of soothing a rattled Prone. He already knows that a fruity cocktail is not the answer.**

 **All the good stuff belongs to Monolith Soft, can you feel the hype?**

* * *

Duna moved quickly, back through the bronze corridor, looking at no one. Uncharacteristically, she didn't even acknowledge those who called out to her. Wolf trailed behind, also silent, keeping worried eyes on the Prone in front of him.

When they reached the door, he noted that the rain had stopped. The deck was clean and the air felt a little fresher. Duna stopped a few steps into the open area, on the edge of the central meeting dais. She looked a little lost. She said the obvious. "We need to talk, but not here."

Wolf flicked a quick look at the starboard entrance. The Ma-non had assigned him a sleep pod there, large enough for four Ma-non but a bit too close for a human and a Prone. The uncertainty must have shown on his face, because Duna replied as if he had spoken. "No, I wish to leave the ship. I do not want to be around … everything." She stopped, and put her hand on her hip, tilting her head up with an echo of her typical spirit. "Pointless. It will follow me forever."

Wolf turned and moved towards the transport area. If it wasn't going to be the ship, that left NLA. He looked over at Duna before pressing the button to engage the beam. "Rosemoss? Or maybe the Repenta's better? If you can stand the noise."

She gestured for him to begin the transport. Less than a second later, with the echo of static still on their skin, they arrived at the foot of BLADE tower. The Ma-non ship hung high above them, blocking the planet's second largest moon. Duna spoke as if there had been no interruption. "Not the Repenta. Not there. I know a dancer there, and well, …" Suddenly she asked, "Is there a place that we can be outside? I think I want to look at the sky."

Wolf looked at her with surprise. She'd never been one to be anything less than practical. He had a quick answer. "The park. It's quiet, and easy." But before he had taken two steps towards the transport plane, he switched directions, leading her towards the side elevator instead. If she was nervy about dancers, the park might not be the best place. Young humans gathered there sometimes, to share music and dance, NLA's own baby rave, and Prone had started to join them. He directed her towards a sliver of greenspace, across from the Cathedral and not a block to the left of the elevator. He paused to let a group of young female BLADES jog past, chatting about needing to ask Hope something while they ran. Maybe he'd trained one of them, didn't matter.

The area was mostly empty, except for a trio of whispering Nopon in the far corner and an Orphe engaged in a serious discussion with a tree. Wolf headed for the first bench, facing away from the rest of the city. If you looked right, you could see the Cathedral's white walls, dwarfed by the Ma-non ship hanging on the horizon. To the left, the view was blocked by the Administrative District, its girders and vid screens. But if you looked only straight ahead, there was the Miran sky, full of moons and stars and a cloudy patch of nebulae. The bench was perhaps too close to the street, but traffic was infrequent.

Duna looked uncomfortably at the bench, and shuddered slightly. The weird scene in the ship hadn't been forgotten. But in Wolf's experience, it was best to push past any uncomfortable memories. Benches were for sitting. He lowered himself, made a demonstration of getting comfortable, and gestured to her to sit down. He looked at her expectantly.

To his surprise, Duna laughed. "You look like a proud little boy. You have found me a spot to sit and now I must be grateful for your clever discovery." Before he could be angry, she sat with subtle ceremony. "Yes, a fine bench, and quiet, and so far from my people." She looked past him, towards the ship, then stared forward, towards nothing.

Wolf glanced briefly at the moon (he thought it was the second smallest one, the one the Nopon called Melly), then turned to measure his companion. She was sitting as proudly as she always sat, head up and hands at her sides. No cupping of moonlight between slender fingers. She was one breath short of leaping into the sky and smacking the heavens for what she needed. Wolf looked more closely. Her hands were gripping the edge of the bench, and all six eyes were shut tight, the dark lashes speckling her cheeks and brow.

He hesitated no longer. If this was serious, they'd need to deal with it, and quickly. "What did we just see? More to the point, do we need to warn people? Do I need to warn BLADE?"

She flicked her face towards him, almost in surprise. Her eyes flashed as brightly as the moons for a second, before fading to a paler light. "No. I meant it when I said I cannot imagine her harming anyone. But something strange must have happened in Cauldros. She was … wrong."

"I'll say. Definian?" Wolf wished he'd had the wit to grab the strange Prone before she'd vanished. Definians could mimic almost any other species, but the falsehood couldn't survive physical contact. It was not for nothing that variations of the human habit of handshakes had been adopted by the other xenos.

"I don't think so." Duna shook her head, the gentle sway of her tentacles emphasizing her point.

Wolf pressed his concern. "They've fooled others before. For months."

"Perhaps one could fool Eric, but not me. She spoke as only one who knew me from before could. It was Sunilla."

"All right. It was a Prone. But I've never seen any Prone like that. You said she was wrong. How?"

Duna sighed and did not reply at once. Another sigh, and she began. "I'm not sure. The woman that we saw, we were children together, although she is more my little sister's age. That was long ago, before the Cavern Clan destroyed my people. I haven't seen her since those last disastrous days."

She paused, briefly. "Even as a child, she was a beauty. Everyone could see it, and everyone was delighted. Most of all, her heart was beautiful. That is why I am sure she would not bring danger to the ship or this city. She caused no trouble, no envy, all the time I knew her, only kindness."

Duna's gaze lifted to the ship, but Wolf suspected she was looking further away than that. "Sunilla's mother hoped she would become a singer. No surprise, I'm sure. After all, you heard the beauty of her voice." Wolf didn't comment on the gurgles he had heard. "Her mother praised her every attempt, and they were worthy, but I thought I knew her better. I hoped she would dance. Even as the smallest toddling thing, she moved like sunshine. So beautiful." Duna suddenly turned and hung her head. "But beauty is no gift for a woman in times of war."

Wolf listened to distant hiss of traffic, carried across the moat of blast gel. The Orphe was buzzing a repeated technical list to the tree. Two of the Nopon had left, abandoning their third, asleep in the grass. He listened to the silence of his partner in the xeno training scheme.

She took a deep breath and snapped her head up. She continued, fiercely now. "Sunilla was a child. A _child_. But even then, she was beautiful. A Cavern Clan leader took her. She was younger than I, but they let me remain a child, the oldest and in charge of the little ones. I bought my safety by keeping them quiet and obedient. Not all of my people were lucky, to stay safe. And they took Sunilla away." She looked suddenly at Wolf. "So she has returned, after all this time, our beautiful Sunilla. But something is wrong."

Wolf tried to be hard-headed about it. This took more effort than he'd expected, and he felt slightly angry at himself. "You saw a childhood friend. I saw a young Prone woman, or something that looked like one. Maybe Definian, maybe not, since she was so familiar to you. We agree there was something off about the whole thing." He frowned quickly, before continuing. "Look: either something's wrong with my eyes and ears or she was being masked by something, and I don't think my mim needs repairs."

"Masked? What do you mean?"

Wolf explained quickly about his troubles seeing and hearing the strange Prone properly. "It was all smoke and distance. And the kicker was, I couldn't understand a word she said. It was garbled trash. About the only thing I could grab onto was the word 'prenar' and I have no idea what that means."

"I cannot tell you what she meant exactly. But she does want us to retrieve her treasure in Cauldros."

"At least tell me what 'prenar' means."

"I don't know. A treasure could be anything, although I cannot imagine how she has anything of material value. It must be something of importance to the people of the Tree Clan."

"Wait a second. Does 'prenar' mean 'treasure'?"

"Yes. Treasure means treasure. Why do you pronounce it so strangely?"

Wolf gave a satisfied grunt. "So I _was_ hearing correctly. Except it doesn't happen that way."

"What do you mean?"

"I think I'm the first human to hear the true Prone language, not the version Mira feeds us."

Duna looked at him in sudden understanding. "Say the two words again," she commanded. "Treasure and treasure."

"Prenar. Treasure."

"Tray-zure," she repeated slowly. Her voice, husky to begin with, had dipped lower than normal. She stared at him a moment. "I did not think it could be done."

"Great. We've got the first word pair for the English-Prone dictionary. This is going to send the Curators into a tizzy. If we tell them."

"When. But, please let it be later." Duna tilted her head to the side. "I heard her perfectly, and so it seems did Eric. I wonder why you did not. You are usually good at listening."

Wolf grunted and returned to the main subject. "Maybe I was too good. Doesn't matter, so long as you know where the target is. She did give you instructions at the end, right?"

"Yes, enough to find the treasure, I hope."

"So you heard her clearly, even if I heard junk. Did you see her any better?"

"I saw her as well as I see you now, BLADE Wolf, although everything around her seemed so much brighter. The Ma-non keep their ship dark enough that even the Cavern Clan would be at home. Sunilla was flooded with light."

"Smoke, light. Bet Eric sees her surrounded by roses. I'm still not convinced she's real. That what you meant by 'wrong'?"

"No." Duna twisted her head away, but only for a moment. She turned to Wolf, meeting him with a stare as firm as his own. Her explanation was clear and without hesitation. "Smoke or light or roses red, that is not what troubles me. It is not a problem you would recognize. She is Sunilla, but her age is wrong. When they took her, she was younger than me, I told you that. She should be my sister's age, perhaps a little less. But she looked to be younger still."

"Conditions may have left her underfed?"

"No. I know how Prone grow. I may not have had my own, but I have cared for enough children all the same. She looked to be a girl just turned to woman, no more. She should be older."

"So not Sunilla."

"She was Sunilla. I have no doubt. But I do not think she lives in our time." She hung her head. "I do not think she …"

"A ghost." Wolf said it, finally, the idea that he'd been fighting since he laid eyes on the eerie Prone.

"I'm not sure."

"Do your people have ghosts? Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"I understand. And, no, for us, dead is dead, and the spirit does not linger in its old form but passes on. Hopefully to something worthy, but even if it is only the earth or the sky, the spirit goes to do its work elsewhere. I should not see her."

"Then not a ghost. Perhaps she sent a message? Through time?"

"Maybe. Oh, Wolf, how can I know? But I was sure that was Sunilla. I'm still sure." She rested her hand on his arm, gently, but he felt her urgent energy all the same.

Wolf nodded. "Tomorrow. I need to get my gear ready, and get permission from BLADE. I'm telling them everything." When she started to protest, he cut her off. "Everything. It just might be a Definian, for all that I'm thinking she's not. I've seen too many BLADEs killed because of something they didn't feel was worth mentioning. Can you give me a full written report of what she said? I need those directions."

"I will do that."

"Good. Get it to me by 0500. But better if you get it done before you go to sleep."

"0500?"

"I'll be checking out of NLA by then."

"And if you do not receive permission from BLADE?"

Wolf smiled at Duna. "Send a second copy of the directions to the ECP. It'll give the Mediators an idea where to arrest me. Just give me a few hours head start."

* * *

 **a/n: Nopon names for the moons: Great Mother Mamapon, the three Daughterpon (Sharla, Fiora, and Melly), Little Hubbypon. Human names: Majora, Umbra, Alola, Waka, Littlepon. At least in my XCX. If your moons have names, I'd love to hear them, but Majora is canon forever in my heart.**

 **If you are wondering what happens when a Prone orders a fruity cocktail, then you need to read "New Faces". (I'm going for the shameless plug achievement.)**

 **Next up: Wolf rolls out, but there's a complication, because otherwise we'd be directly in Chapter 6.**


	4. Squad Up

**The Treasure of O'rhh Sim/4/Squad Up**

 **a/n: Preparation is key to survival, especially when visiting Cauldros. Wolf is going to have to make do.**

 **No swears, although Wolf is mightily tempted. An overwhelming amount of gear geekery.**

 **All the good things belong to the hardworking geniuses of Monolith Soft, except Thirza and the flu. Who wants the flu anyway?**

* * *

It was a strange feeling, to be waiting in front of the Mission Board again. Wolf had spent weeks, months, standing there, just to the side, ready to give any rookie BLADE a bit of polish whenever he'd been given the nod, and often when he hadn't. Now someone else was standing in what had been his spot, doing what had been his job. Thirza, a motherly figure with short black hair shifting to grey and a squat physique built of pure muscle. Her marked black brows hinted that perhaps she was not kindness itself. She'd been a late recruit to BLADE, switching from a civilian capacity, from the retail sector no less, and on the very day of the defense of NLA. Her clear combat skills, most recently demonstrated with the Harriers, were something of a surprise to everyone except possibly Nagi and Eleonora.

Nothing surprised Eleonora, in Wolf's experience. She might feign shock, but he'd never seen her at a loss. Although she wasn't immediately helpful with his request to leave the city, he wasn't too worried about filling a squad from the Mission Board. Three more BLADEs, preferably restrained, patient, and discrete. He'd rather go alone than take the wrong group, but he knew all the troops well enough that he didn't think he'd choose wrong. Not that Eleonora let anyone land in the wrong place.

So he could rely on the Mission Supervisor, but something nagged him. Maybe it was the lack of ready recruits that usually surrounded the board like bees surrounding a flower bed. The area was deserted except for Eleonora. Not that she wasn't busy, chatting away with whoever was at the other end of a series of comm link conversations. He wasn't exactly impatient. While he waited for Eleonora to speak to him, he counted the skells that marched by. After a minute, he stopped, having only reached two. Even if he succumbed to impatience, truth was, he wasn't quite ready to leave. He still hadn't received a transcript of that night's encounter from Duna.

Eleonora had looked up from her comm device and turned to him. "Cauldros. For a xeno-based mission." She measured him without her standard smile, and her voice was clipped. "Wolf, dear, you'll just have to wait a few days. We can't manage a squad for you this morning."

Wolf shook his head.

Eleonora heaved a deep sigh. Her face showed just the slightest hint of worry, unusual for the polished blonde manager of the Mission Board. While the board area itself was quiet, the drive was swarming with people, in various states of disarray. He watched as a civilian dragged a soldier, still clad in his pajamas, back into the barracks.

"We've hit an unexpected, ah, staffing problem, shall we say? Troop levels should be better under control soon. Hopefully even by tomorrow. We've taken most of the missions down from the board, in order to focus troops on the most important problems. As soon as we pull the resource gathering squads back, we may be able to start filling new requests."

Wolf wondered how much the industrialists had squawked about that, but said nothing.

"I'll mark yours as secondary priority, but don't worry, I'll see it gets filled. We already have the anchor, right?" She finally gave him a cheerful but artificial smile.

"I'm leaving as soon as I get the details. I'll share them and you can send somebody later."

"And if I point out that right now we really need all working hands to stay inside NLA?"

"Message noted. I'm going, if I have to swim there." He hesitated before asking, "Unless there's something immanent?"

Eleonora's laugh was unconcerned and light as wind chimes. "Not a thing. Clear skies and smooth sailing, except for the flu that's hit everyone." Wolf didn't point out that mims didn't get flu. After a quick staring contest, she rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll mark it as recon, half team, no credits. I can at least find you …." She broke off, looking past him, and a genuine smile replaced the artificial one. "I do believe your problems are solved. I see your second heading this way."

Wolf turned a full 180 degrees. Approaching them, carefully but surely, was a woman in full Sakuraba skell gear. Wolf narrowed his eyes in disapproval. Beggars and choosers, all of it true, but this woman was geared all wrong. The black and golden fabric skimmed her generous curves, attractive certainly, but this mission would require getting their feet dirty. He flicked a look at her boots. Smooth and flowing up into a very nice set of legs, and completely unscuffed. Her gear was brand new. Great, a raw recruit. Then again, maybe not. A certain air of confidence surrounded her. She was a woman, not some slip of a girl, and she moved with a grace that matched … that matched someone ….

The woman had reached them, nodding formally to Eleonora before turning to Wolf. He had just enough time to clamp his jaw shut before the woman reached up to remove her helmet. Not exactly clumsily, but it wasn't without concentration. She shook her blue head once released.

"This will not do. I felt suffocated and blinded." She flicked her tentacles dismissively.

Wolf closed his eyes for a moment. He knew if he checked his comm device, it would show 0500 on the dot. Unlike most of the other xenos, Duna Valdileo had an almost human enthusiasm for punctuality. He forced himself to swallow twice before he spoke.

Duna lifted a hand to stop him. Head turned to one side, despised helmet held at her hip, weight shifted enough to emphasize her long legs. Wolf clamped his mouth shut again.

"Before you begin to argue, I have the details. The hours have been full but I have accomplished what was needed."

"You're coming with?" Wolf ground out. He couldn't quite make it a polite question, but at least he kept himself from a shout.

"Yes."

"Skell?" Good idea. The fewer words he said, the less likely he'd start asking her if she was insane.

"Yes. Waiting outside the East Gate. Eric has a friend in Candid and Credible."

The good idea was over. His voice dripped sarcasm. "They don't make skells, and they don't make that armor you're wearing."

"The Ma-non make fine armor, and with interesting properties. Treasure sensors for a treasure hunt. But I did not feel like imitating a school girl. C&C has friends and Sakuraba was most accommodating."

"The defense for skell gear is worthless."

"I am aware of my weaknesses, BLADE Wolf. No need to teach me that point. I had thought of Orphean design for that reason, but…"

Wolf suddenly thought of mid-weight Orphean design and had to clamp his mouth shut again. Swallowing would have to take work, though.

"… but the good people of C&C insisted that I try this."

"Sakuraba," he corrected her, with a croak.

"I know what I said. The Ma-non are trying a collaboration with Sakuraba – human design but Ma-non enhancements. This is their most complete set."

"A prototype. Not on your life. We are not taking you to Cauldros in untested gear. We're not taking you to Cauldros at all."

Eleonora interrupted. "Oh, so that's the new gear. You wouldn't know to look at it. Marvelous. The Outfitters have been all abuzz with it. But I thought it wouldn't be released until the end of the month."

"The designer became very excited at the prospect of reaching the Prone market. This sample is from the first commercial run."

Wolf hadn't conceded, although he knew he'd lost already. Probably from the moment he and Duna had spoken in the park. Probably from before they'd left the ship. But he needed to be sure. "What makes you think the gear's so hot?" he asked. His traitorous eyes suggested he already knew.

"I have sent the specifications to your comm device. I felt you should know."

He pulled his device out, as much as a distraction as to check the information. In addition to the ridiculously high treasure sensor common to Ma-non gear, the outfit's defense was impressive, almost heavy level, and evasion had been enhanced. Sakuraba must have borrowed some ideas from the Orphe as well. If any of the stats applied to skell use as well as ground applications, this gear would fly off the shelves. Not much by way of attack stats, still, but he was going to do his best to keep Duna out of any fighting. As in zero fighting. He scanned her gear directly, just to be sure. She stood still, knowing what he was doing without asking, and without any sign of irritation.

He closed his device and glared at her. "I do not need a rookie to distract me."

"Neither of us knows what we will face. In that sense, any team member would be untested. And you may very well need a translator, Wolf." When Wolf sent a quick glance at Eleonora, Duna continued. "I have already given a complete report to your ECP."

"I got it before yours, Wolf," Eleonora interrupted with a smug smile.

Duna continued. "I agree with what you said last night. Too many of us have died because we did not trust others with what concerns us. Eleonora suggested that a Prone should accompany you."

"Well, I was thinking more in the role of a fighter," chirped Eleonora, "but recent events make the idea of a smaller, quieter squad the best option. That is, if you must go today. Really, if you'd just wait a day, I promise that I'll patch something together for you."

Wolf gave a growl worthy of a Prone and shook his head. "I've got a squad, with shiny new gear. Shame to waste it. We'll keep you informed as we go."

"Good luck, Wolf. Both for NLA and the Prone," Eleonora said.

* * *

 **a/n: What on Mira is going on with the Mission Board? Well, that won't be revealed in this story, sorry. (Short version: it wasn't the flu, but it turns out fine. Gwin was wearing the pajamas.) I would have loved to put Thirza on the squad, but nope, she stays in NLA (she has to chat with Alexa about something). Now that I've mentioned both, I'm honor bound to to to write them up in other stories, okay?**

 **Midweight Orphean armor on females, aka body paint + feathers, you've see it all over NLA. Because of the stats for defense and evasion. Right. Not nearly as fun on males, but I enjoy putting Gwin in it. Except for the helmet. Poor boy can't breathe. I abuse him enough as it is.**

 **Next up: I sure hope they remember to take a bathroom break before leaving, because I don't want to turn this skell around. What? They didn't?! … Grrrr. It's going to take longer to get to Cauldros than I hoped. We'll be lucky to leave Primordia in under 2 chapters.**


	5. Gearheads

**The Treasure of O'rr Sim/5/Gearheads**

 **A/n: The mission begins! Sort of. Because we have to examine gear and stuff.**

 **All the good stuff belongs to the good people of Monolith Soft, including Wolf and Duna, although I'm gleefully adding to their legend.**

* * *

Wolf ran towards the East Gate, weaving through the pedestrians. Not a trot, not a fast walk, he was running at full speed. Many reasons: Building a squad had taken so much longer than expected and he'd be glad to make up even a minute of time. He wanted to test Duna and warn her as well. BLADE missions were physically demanding, and the sooner they both knew her limitations, the better they could plan how to act. He'd know how much help he'd have to give her, and she'd know to take it before she got in trouble. If it burnt off a little of his annoyance at having her dumped on him with no warning, well, that was a plus. And then there was the sheer joy of it – mims could run endlessly, and he wasn't so desensitized not to appreciate that. Standing at the mission board and then on the ship didn't give him much chance to enjoy it, and pushing himself to a faster speed unleashed rare and pure pleasure.

He didn't worry too much about putting Duna in danger of exhaustion. The skell he had organized for himself was located just inside the East Gate. He put on a little extra speed as they passed a few former trainees. Not showing off, no, but a whisper of discomfort flickered at him. He didn't much want to talk to them, and he definitely didn't want to catch any accidental comments. A few noticed him, the nearest one even waved, but he kept his focus on his skell.

It was right where he'd left it. Not his, per se, but exactly to his specifications. Fast, precise, and painted black with hints of red. It would stand out like a sore thumb against Sylvalum's white dunes, but it would blend into near invisibility when they reached Cauldros. Not as heavy as he'd like, now that he would need to support Duna, but it was too late to rearrange his skell request. He turned around to find Duna arriving at his heels. She was breathing hard, but not bent over. "Wolf, you know that I cannot keep that pace for any but shorter distances. But if there is need, I have the speed. At least for a while." Her voice held humor, even muffled by the detested helmet.

"Hold on. We're going to need to fix your gear. I'll get something out of my skell." He climbed up into the pilot's capsule, dragging the emergency bag from behind the seat. It took him a second to find what he needed. He chided himself for getting unfamiliar with his own gear. Lack of recent skell use was no excuse. He'd remedy that, later. He hoped it wouldn't be a problem this run. The spare headset was snuggly placed with the other extra armor, chosen for compactness and defense. If you were so far gone that you need the emergency gear, you needed HP and you needed to get home, not attack stats to help you start any new fights. You'd clearly already lost.

When he turned to look out the capsule's window, he saw Satie talking shyly with Duna. He couldn't hear her words, but the young mechanic seemed to be questioning the other woman. Duna's answers didn't seem to be what Satie had expected. After a moment more give and take, Duna shook her head and patted the other woman's shoulder, almost to reassure her. Wolf scrambled out. He hadn't hit the ground when he barked at the human. "Do you have anything to report before we leave?"

"Er, no sir! Good … good luck. I guess." Satie backed away, almost tumbling over a ridge in the deck, before turning and fleeing.

"I've got something that might work, but we'll put it on at your skell. Parked outside?"

Duna was silent. He wished he could see her expression. A further disadvantage for her choice of gear. Finally, she nodded and started walking deliberately towards the gate.

"Wait. How close is it to the gate?"

She turned and said, clearly. "I was told it would be past the first division station. Pathfinders."

"This week, yeah, their station. Hop in. I'll give you a lift." He gestured to the carrier capsule in the back of the skell. When she hesitated, he offered her his hand, so the leap would be easier. Unnecessary, because although she accepted his offer his help, she barely put any weight on him.

Back again in the pilot's seat, he checked the link to her helmet. "All clear back there?"

"I can hear you."

"I'm sorry there's no window. At least the ride is short."

"I will survive." No further comment, and the rest of the brief trip was made in silence. He brought the skell to a halt a few steps past the Pathfinder's base camp. It seemed ridiculously close to the city, but he remembered a time when even travelling this far could be a deadly journey for a team. Already at half staff, he noticed as they passed. Eleonora must be pulling in teams from near and far. "We're here." He hopped out of his skell, spare headset in his hand, and waited for her to emerge. He hadn't shown her how to exit, another oversight, but before he even could hail her on their comm link, the door was shifting and she jumped down to the ground.

"Take off your helmet, and let's see if this gear is better," he told her. She did this, and the moment he saw her face, he knew there was something wrong. Even shaking her head in the fresh air didn't bring relief. The helmet really must have irritated her, because her eyes were laser bright, and her tentacles almost snapped with anger. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Wolf pinned her with a long, cool look. Did she really think he was that dumb? Maybe a male Prone might take that, but he wasn't going to. He waited.

She lifted her chin, and calmed her face. Still her eyes were over-bright. "You do not want me to speak to humans. Why?" Her voice was controlled, but the anger was there. "Perhaps you do not want them to know that BLADE Wolf works with a Prone."

He gaped at her. "Where'd you get that idea?!"

"You do not want me to talk to your Pathfinders."

"The skell is parked right here. I saved you the extra steps."

"You practically drove that young woman away. And you do not want me to talk to your Pathfinders."

"Satie?" Wolf frowned and looked away, uncomfortable. "So? She usually doesn't have much worth listening to."

"A gossip, then," she said with slight bitterness.

"No, not that," Wolf said quickly. "I just didn't need you hearing her take on me. My trainees tend to be … aggrieved."

Duna looked at him, her whole body attentive. "You were afraid she'd scare me off," she said with surprise.

Wolf didn't answer.

Her laughter was clear and surprisingly light. "Wolf, I have listened to grown males complain about your training. Prone males. No human child could scare me from this mission. And no one could ever scare me from accepting you as a partner. I'm sorry I mistook your concern." Her tentacles twirled in what he knew was a smile.

He was surprised to find himself smiling back at her. Comparing Satie to a two meter tall, bright blue alien with muscles like watermelons was indeed ridiculous. "You need something instead of that helmet. Let me fix that now."

"My helmet was chosen for this mission. It is perfect." Tentacles still flicking with humor, she made no move whatsoever to put her perfect helmet back on.

"It's worthless if it blocks your vision or hearing or whatever other senses you guys have. Stand still."

He reached forward to position the headset. The choice was surprisingly effective, with the small wedge of tech riding between her larger tentacles. Duna's eyes fluttered with surprise, but she didn't move as he pressed the set steadily against the side of her head. It would take a moment for the equipment to adjust to attaching to an organic form instead of a mim. His thumb brushed the base of her forward tentacle gently. The appendage was softer than he'd expected, almost like an earlobe, and warm. In return, its tip flicked gently across the base of his wrist. He turned his gaze curiously to Duna's eyes. Prone eyes glowed bright at a distance, a natural pale grey that reflected light, rather like cats had on Earth. This close, he could see silver traces in the grey, nebula in Duna's dominant eyes, pinpricks of stars in her minor ones. The headset gave a click, indicating that it was as affixed as it was going to be. When Wolf pulled away quickly, Duna's tentacle twirled momentarily against his fingers in farewell.

Both teammates stepped apart. Wolf turned to Duna's skell sharply. Suddenly it felt very important to examine it. Ares 70, fresh from the factory floor, dull black and lethal. Wolf let out a low whistle of respect. "Nice. C&C must have some nice friends in Sakuraba."

Duna's gaze was equally focused on the machine. "Eric has some nice friends. I think we underestimated the young gentleman. It appears he is a leading engineer for defensive measures on the Ma-non ship."

Wolf grunted. From what he understood, Ma-non shields carried a reflect that could shred overly aggressive opponents. In the world of the Ma-non, the best offense was a good defense, and Sakuraba was probably interested in finding a more direct use for this technology. "Can you drive it?"

"Well enough. There is a limit to what even a determined woman can learn in 5 hours." Duna laughed again. "It is not by accident that it is parked in a field outside the city. I do not think they could bear to watch my maiden flight."

"Right is up, left is down," Wolf offered helpfully.

"And braking is automatic. Do not ask me to fight."

He shook his head. "No fighting. We run first."

Duna nodded in agreement. "Again, the skell was chosen with that in mind."

Wolf wasn't satisfied. "Better we're not seen at all. We may have to shift to ground sooner than you'd like."

"This is not the first planet I've walked on."

"Not mine either. You should be careful."

"I am not reckless," Duna said gently.

Wolf shook his head again, serious to the core. "You should be very scared, Duna. Cauldros is …"

She interrupted. "I have enough healthy fear today, I assure you. If you were not here, I believe I would qualify as terrified. As it is, I am merely very, very worried. I know we must succeed, but I also want to come home."

"I'll do my best. We'll get this done."

"For Sunilla, and dear little Eric, too." Wolf couldn't help but smile at her words. They nodded and climbed into their skells.

* * *

 **a/n: This title! It makes me so happy. Why do I end up dressing my personal Cross in the stupidest trash I have on hand when I love reading about gear so much?**

 **There is nothing on official skell design to explain how you can lift up out of NLA, fly to another continent, land on a mountain top, and find the rest of your team, all on foot, right beside you. In my mind, every skell has a back carrier capsule with two seats plus one internal jumpseat, enough to hold three teammates, although you'll all have to get very friendly. We've seen that Tatsu rides with Lin, so the jumpseat isn't that far off. Well, I'm declaring it true for my XCX, because otherwise I have trouble believing the world. Pizza-crazed gravity wizards and foul-mouthed, check-kiting time travelers, those require no explanation, thanks. I'm still working on why there were so many serial killers and end-of-day terrorists on the Whale, but I have a Theory.**

 **Chapter 6 remains vapor ware, and you are unlikely to see it before Dragons Eat The Sun, or before I Am Visited By 19 Aliens From Far Away. Ahhhhhh! In other words, I'm super busy this summer and also have limited access to the computer. But! I am still plugging away at it, a few paragraphs a week, and it will get done. Unless I write more about Case the Head Case.**

 **Next up: Can we get to Cauldros already? I'm thinking: maybe by September.**


	6. Maiden Flight

**The Treasure of O'rrh Sim/6/Maiden Flight**

 **a/n: Duna and Wolf finally leave NLA and reach Sylvalum. Along the way, they discuss the details of the mission and fight the weather. Fighting the weather may become a theme.**

 **All the good stuff belongs to Monolith Soft. Maroos is mine, because there really are no Prone in Cauldros (I looked).**

* * *

Why is it so hard to leave this city? Duna wondered. The green of the tower flickered through the increasing rain. She hesitated to call NLA home. She had been taken from her true home by force and would never see it again. Now she was free, but sheltered only through kindness, or maybe curiosity, by strangers that also housed those who had destroyed her people. She had nothing in NLA, besides a family that had outgrown her and a project that was practically a farce. And yet, why was it so hard to leave? She placed her hands flat against her stomach, framing her navel, and took a slow, deep breath.

"Do you need a boost?" asked the human beside her.

"No, thank you, BLADE Wolf. I am capable of getting in myself." She shook a few droplets from her tentacles and climbed into the pilot's capsule.

She was grateful for the simplicity of the skell's controls. She knew she had no business going to Cauldros. Her inexperience might be the source of her nerves. Truthfully, she was more likely to endanger Wolf than aid him, but there was no one else she trusted with this mission. Sunilla, her dear friend, had somehow chosen her across unmeasurable distances, and Duna was not going to fail her.

Wolf spoke over the comm link. "Instrument check done here. Are you ready, Miss Duna?"

She hurriedly finished her own check at Wolf's tactful reminder. "Yes, BLADE Wolf."

The skell responded well to her untutored commands, although she took care to stay at a slower speed. When Wolf, in the lead, went airborne, she followed and felt even more comfortable with her vehicle. Clearly, the Ares were designed for flight. A sudden heavy gust of wind shook the skell and reminded her that this journey would not be easy, not even so close to New Los Angeles.

"I was going to run you through some easy combat," she heard Wolf's voice in her ear. "But I think this weather is enough of a challenge."

"Your order not to engage still seems wisest," she replied. "But another time I would be glad for the training."

They flew low to the ground, ducking below craggy outcroppings before heading out across the ocean towards a murky glow on the horizon. The rain had turned torrential, with gusts like blows, and she was glad to dip down, following Wolf to a surface flight across monotonous small waves.

"If this weather isn't too much of a distraction, can you give me the mission details now?" Wolf seemed to be speaking right beside her, a rough voice in her ear.

Duna freed a hand to momentarily adjust the headset, only to hurriedly steady the skell. She tried to be as clear as possible, even as the controls jerked in her hands. "Sunilla said her treasure was located at the base of a ruined city, not as a part of it, but hidden in a field of liquid fire. She hinted that it was held secretly by Prone there."

"O'rrh Sim ruins and the lava pools below it. That covers a lot of territory. Anything else?"

"She mentioned a circle of rocks the shape of travel shelters. Conical and slender."

"That rings a bell. Still, I've never heard of Prone in Cauldros."

"There may be a few." Duna remember her inquiries from the previous night. She tried to keep the distaste from her voice. "Slovity told me of one group."

Wolf made no response, but she could feel his steady patience. It had taken a surprising amount of will to overcome her hatred of the Cavern Clan residents and go to them for information. Her clan had never been one of the few that held a truce with their enemy. Some groups had lived side by side, for generations in rare cases, but not her clan. It mattered not. In the final disaster, all Tree Prone were enslaved, and past kindnesses were erased

Duna continued stoically. "For Sunilla, I will use whatever allies I must. I asked the Cavern Clan, and Slovity said there might be one small splinter group. Their leader acts independently. Apparently, even the Ganglion have standards for excessive brutality."

"I repeat, the ECP has _never_ heard of Prone there."

"His group is small and travels widely, to all lands. Slovity said he was an agent of chaos, not an effective fighting force. The other Cavern Clan shunned him."

"Does he have a name?"

"Maroos. She isn't sure he still exists. When she last knew of him, he had perhaps a dozen followers, maybe less. He does not keep them long."

"Not someone you'd trust with a Prone treasure."

"Even Slovity agreed with that."

"Any better idea what this treasure is?"

"No. Sunilla's family wasn't wealthy or even notable. They had never been entrusted with anything special, nor did they possess anything of great worth. Besides Sunilla."

Through the deluge, Duna could see the curve of bone-white cliffs, bending like an animal's ribs. She was slightly relieved to have reached their initial destination. Back at NLA, Eleonora had tasked them with alerting a few isolated camps in Sylvalum about the staffing problem in NLA. No hope of getting aid from them, though. All extra personnel were being pulled back to the city. They would have to succeed on their own.

As the skells set foot on Sylvalum beach, Duna's display screen malfunctioned. The pale green and grey landscape was replaced by static. "Wolf!" she said in alarm. "My skell has gone blind!"

Wolf muttered, a comforting growl very like a Prone's. "Why am I not surprised? It's spores, Miss Duna. Visibility will be down to nothing for a while. We'll have to crawl there." He grunted, and Duna smiled at his similarity to her own people. She was not surprised by his next words. "We can do this. Stay on the ground, follow the contours, and above all, go slow. We don't want to crash into an enemy. It's not all bad. They're just as blind as we are."

She was less comforted by his follow up. "But if we keep getting this kind of luck, prepare for flaming rain in Cauldros."

* * *

 **a/n: And we're back! This was initially part of Inktober FROM A YEAR AGO (#25 Blind). I've polished it and polished it like a worry stone, and I think I better post it before I wear it down into invisibility, right?**

 **Next up: We'll reach Cauldros. Hopefully in less than a year. But I make no promises, because there may be a fight scene. Or I could skip it and go straight to ... Nopon.**

 **Huh. Fight scenes don't seem so bad now.**


End file.
